Wednesday, April 15, 2026

by Harish Gupta, National Editor, Lokmat Group

Fly on the Wall

Harish Gupta

Spy vs Spy: Delhi’s Surveillance Politics Explodes


In geopolitics, lessons travel fast. Ever since reports surfaced that Israeli intelligence agencies tracked and eliminated top Iranian leadership by mapping vehicle movements, a quiet paranoia has gripped power corridors in Delhi. Suddenly, CCTV cameras are no longer just about traffic violations or street crime—they are potential instruments of political intelligence. In the Capital, this unease has snowballed into a full-blown surveillance slugfest between Aam Aadmi Party and BJP.

What began as a flagship public safety project under Arvind Kejriwal—with lakhs of cameras blanketing the city—is now being systematically dismantled. The BJP, now calling the shots, has ordered a sweeping reset: scrap the old network, float fresh tenders, bring in new spy machines. The official trigger? Security concerns over Chinese-origin equipment, especially from Hikvision. In an era of heightened cyber anxieties, the argument has some weight. But scratch the surface, and a more political story emerges. The BJP’s unease is blunt: a surveillance grid built, controlled, and calibrated under AAP could double up as a political listening post. Why inherit a system you don’t trust?

The AAP's counter-charge is equally sharp—that the BJP wants its own digital eyes and ears, a tailor-made network to watch rivals, not just wrongdoers. The numbers tell their own story. Nearly 1.4 lakh cameras—many installed between 2020 and 2022—are being ripped out. This isn’t maintenance; it’s demolition with intent. The larger question, then, is not just about Chinese hardware or public safety. In Delhi, the CCTV is no longer just a camera on the wall. It’s a lens into power, paranoia, and the politics of who watches whom.

Priyanka Chaturvedi at the Crossroads

Is Priyanka Chaturvedi scripting a comeback via the Lok Sabha, or angling for another Rajya Sabha innings? With her Upper House term from Shiv Sena (UBT) over, the chatter in political corridors is getting louder—and juicier. The buzz has a clear geographical anchor: Mathura. It’s not just sentiment. Chaturvedi hails from here and her recent visit has set tongues wagging. The seat is currently held by Hema Malini, but by 2029, age could redraw the BJP’s calculus, opening a tempting window.

But the real intrigue lies in the party tag. Will she stay loyal, switch sides, or hedge her bets? Signals are mixed. One track suggests a Rajya Sabha re-entry with possible backing from the Samajwadi Party, which is eyeing gains in the upcoming Uttar Pradesh RS polls. With numbers on its side, the SP could bag multiple seats—but not without resistance from the BJP.

Yet, there’s a twist. Akhilesh Yadav is reportedly more keen to test her electoral heft in Mathura than park her in the Rajya Sabha. Back channel voices may prefer a safe RS berth, but the SP chief seems to favour a riskier, high-reward Lok Sabha gamble.

Meanwhile, equations with her current party remain less than warm. From flirting with a saffron switch to exploring the UP route, every option is on the table. One thing is clear: her next move could be less about loyalty—and more about survival and ambition.

Price Tag Politics: How Much for Power?

A 19-minute “sting” clip has detonated like a political landmine in West Bengal. Released by the Trinamool Congress, it alleges that Humayun Kabir of the Aam Janata Unnayan Party struck a staggering ₹1,000 crore deal with the BJP to split minority votes in Murshidabad and Malda ahead of the 2026 Assembly polls. Kabir first dismissed it as AI fakery, then conceded the clip was real—only “edited & incomplete.” The BJP has waved it off as theatrics. Truth, as always, sits somewhere behind the noise, waiting.

But the deeper tremor comes from an unlikely quarter. Birendra Singh who was in the first Modi Cabinet for five years, has cut through the fog with a blunt observation: a leader “worth” ₹20 crore is pushed into delirium when the BJP pays Rs 50 crore.

What does this moment reveal? Not just the presence of money power—that is old news—but its breathtaking scale and normalization. Elections are no longer merely contests of ideology or identity; they risk becoming high-stakes financial markets where loyalties are traded, constituencies are segmented, and outcomes are engineered with capital.

The alleged ₹1,000 crore figure, whether proven or not, is symbolic. It signals a shift—from retail corruption to wholesale political investment. In such a marketplace, voters are reduced to data points, and democracy to a negotiable instrument. The last word on this controversy may still be unwritten. But one question now demands an answer: when the price of power keeps rising, who—or what—gets sold first?

The Reluctant Warrior

Assembly elections are underway in two major states—West Bengal and Tamil Nadu. Polling for 152 seats in Bengal and all 234 seats in Tamil Nadu is scheduled for April 23. PM Modi has unleashed an aggressive campaign blitz. Home Minister Amit Shah has announced a 15-day ground push in Bengal.

In sharp contrast, Rahul Gandhi has largely stayed away from Tamil Nadu campaigning so far. He has not been particularly visible in Bengal either.  He is finally visited West Bengal on Tuestday, April 14 and may visit one more time. But along with Priyanka Gandhi Vadra, his focus has remained on Kerala, Puducherry and Assam—even there, without matching Modi’s intensity. The BJP, despite modest prospects in Kerala, Tamil Nadu and Puducherry, the party has mounted a full-scale effort.

Congress, however, seems to be going through the motions. Though it is contesting more seats in TN in alliance with the DMK, its top leadership’s late push looks largely symbolic. In Bengal, where it is contesting widely after decades, expectations remain modest despite pockets of hope in Murshidabad and Malda.













Thursday, April 9, 2026

by Harish Gupta, National Editor, Lokmat Group

Fly on the Wall


Harish Gupta


Amit Shah’s Talent Hunt in the Heartland



The saffron gates in Punjab haven't just been nudged open; they’ve been ripped off the hinges. Amit Shah’s "Open Door" policy isn’t a strategy; it’s a vacuum. After the solo runs in Assam and West Bengal, the blueprint is clear: if you can’t beat the machinery, buy the mechanics. But in the corridors of the Punjab BJP, the "old guard" is shivering. They spent decades chanting for a Congress-Mukt Bharat, only to wake up in a Congress-Yukt BJP.


Look at the masthead. Sunil Jakhar, whose DNA carries a century of Congress tradition, now holds the reins. Ravneet Singh Bittu didn’t just defect; he fast-tracked into a Union Ministry. Then there’s the "Maharaja," Captain Amarinder Singh, who moved his entire darbar from the Congress stable to the Lotus fold.


The message from Delhi is unsentimental: "Winning is the only loyalty." Talent is being scouted like a corporate headhunt. Whether it’s rebel AAP MPs looking for a lifeboat or Akali Dal veterans sensing a shift in the wind, the welcome mat is out. It’s the Assam model on steroids. In Guwahati, the CM and his cabinet are a "Who’s Who" of former Congress stalwarts. Punjab is now sprinting down that same track.


For the BJP veterans who braved the lean years, the irony is bitter. They fought the "Hand" for a lifetime, only to find the "Hand" now wearing the "Lotus" ring and calling the shots. They fear the party’s soul is being traded for a spreadsheet of vote banks. Shah’s gamble is high-stakes. He’s betting that a patchwork of "borrowed" giants can do what the original cadre couldn't: conquer the heartland of the farmers' protest. The doors stay open, the air is thick with ambition, and the original saffron line is fading into a shade of "Congress-lite."



Rahul Gandhi’s Kerala Googley


Rahul Gandhi has tossed a political googley in Kerala, declaring that if the Congress comes to power, he would like to see a woman as Chief Minister. The remark has instantly reset the conversation. The pitch, however, came wrapped in sentiment. During the campaign, Rahul recalled his recent experience when Sonia Gandhi was hospitalised. He spoke of a nurse from Kerala who attended to her with remarkable care, using the anecdote to spotlight the compassion and commitment associated with the state’s nurses. “A nurse from Kerala came every hour to check on my mother… they have comforted countless families in their most difficult times,” he said, before adding that he looks forward to Kerala having a woman Chief Minister.


Yet, the emotional appeal masks hard politics. The statement has unsettled senior leaders like K. C. Venugopal, Ramesh Chennithala and V. D. Satheesan. The Congress in Kerala has a thin bench of prominent women leaders. With barely eight or nine women candidates among its 95 seats, the optics sit uneasily with the promise. Among those being discussed is MP Hibi Eden, though she is not contesting. Shanimol Usman, Bindu Krishna, Uma Thomas are also being talked about apart from Former MP and Dalit leader Ramya Haridas. For now, Rahul’s googley has landed. Whether it turns into a wicket will depend on the verdict—and the numbers.


What’s Cooking in Bihar?


There’s more than routine constitutional propriety behind the calm in Patna. Nitish Kumar may have resigned from the Legislative Council within the mandated 14-day window after his election to the Rajya Sabha on March 16, but he continues to hold on as Chief Minister of Bihar—and that has set political antennas twitching. Formally, there is nothing amiss. Under Article 164(4) of the Constitution, a non-legislator can serve as Chief Minister for up to six months. Nitish is expected to take oath in the Rajya Sabha around April 10. Until then—and even beyond—his dual positioning raises no immediate red flags in law.


But politics rarely stops at legality. Nitish’s decision to stay put hints at calibrated ambiguity. Is he buying time, or keeping options open in an ever-fluid Bihar landscape? The silence is as telling as any statement.


History offers a sharp reminder of how such overlaps can carry outsized consequences. In 1999, Giridhar Gamang, then Chief Minister of Odisha, voted in the Lok Sabha as a sitting MP. His lone vote against Atal Bihari Vajpayee’s government proved decisive, toppling it by a single vote. Nitish’s current stance may be constitutionally sound, but in Indian politics, such technicalities often mask deeper churn. The real story, clearly, is still unfolding.


Arif Mohd. Khan to Dhaka!

The Modi government is seriously considering sending a senior political leader as India's envoy to Bangladesh. If this happens it will be a departure from precedent by considering a political figure for the post of high commissioner. The name doing the rounds is of Arif Mohammed Khan who was Governor of Bihar until a few weeks ago. His removal from the post surprised political circles as he was removed on the day it was decided that Nitish Kumar will quit as Chief Minister. Khan was last seen in the company of top RSS functionaries in Mathura recently.

There is also a talk that a Bengali-speaking envoy will be picked up. The choice of a new High Commissioner comes at a time of political transition in Bangladesh and Tarique Rahman becoming the new PM. The current Indian envoy Pranay Kumar Verma is retiring soon.









Wednesday, April 1, 2026

by Harish Gupta, National Editor, Lokmat Group

Fly on the Wall

Harish Gupta





A Quiet Exit, A Loud Loss

The BJP gained three extra Rajya Sabha seats across Assam, Odisha and Bihar — and then stumbled in Haryana, losing one by less than a vote. A statistical blip? Not quite. In politics, ghosts rarely stay buried. Just ask Jagdeep Dhankhar. Once elevated to the Vice President’s chair with much fanfare, Dhankhar’s abrupt exit turned him into what the party presumed was a closed chapter. No courtroom comeback (convention forbids it), no electoral rerun — politically mothballed. Or so it seemed.

But politics has a wicked sense of timing. Without contesting, campaigning, or even speaking, Dhankhar may have quietly swung a Rajya Sabha seat. The trail leads to Haryana — and to Abhay Chautala, heir to Devi Lal’s legacy. Dhankhar, post-resignation, has been staying at Chautala’s farmhouse — not as a guest, but almost as family. When the vote came, the Indian National Lok Dal (INLD), with its two MLAs, chose abstention over alignment. That silence spoke volumes. Had those votes tilted toward the BJP, the “lost” seat might have been secured.

This is where arithmetic meets emotion. Within BJP circles, unease is growing that the “Dhankhar factor” may not be a one-off. His unceremonious exit has reportedly ruffled Jat sentiment — not just in Haryana, but across Rajasthan and western Uttar Pradesh. The same community that once saw his elevation as symbolic empowerment now reads his fall as political discard. And in a region where caste equations often outvote campaign rhetoric, that perception can travel far.

The immediate loss? One Rajya Sabha seat. The potential cost? A slow, simmering political backlash. Because in Indian politics, it’s not always the loud exits that hurt — sometimes, it’s the quiet ones that echo the longest.

A mystery behind the coveted Bungalow 

For a man who once presided over proceedings with a firm hand, Jagdeep Dhankhar is now discovering that the real game begins after the chair is vacated. Nearly eight months after demitting office, the former Vice President is still waiting to step into his officially allotted Type-VIII bungalow at A.P.J. Abdul Kalam Road—prime Lutyens' Delhi real estate. The explanation? Renovations, technicalities, paperwork—pick your favourite bureaucratic alibi.

The irony is hard to miss. Here is a constitutional authority, once at the apex of the system, now navigating the same maze that ordinary mortals have long complained about. The allotment, we are told, happened months ago. The house, however, seems to be playing hide-and-seek—vacant, yet unavailable; allotted, yet not offered.

Even the formal letter of possession appears to be on an extended sabbatical. The ever-dependable Central Public Works Department is reportedly “working” on it—though what exactly is being worked on remains as elusive as the keys to the bungalow. Meanwhile, Dhankhar cools his heels at a private farmhouse, a temporary arrangement stretching into a long-term anecdote.

In the grand theatre of Delhi’s power corridors, this is less a housing delay and more a masterclass in how the system treats even its own veterans. Titles fade, protocols thin out, and the file—always the file—takes on a life of its own. For Dhankhar, the lesson is perhaps unexpected but unmistakable: in Delhi, you may enforce the rules once—but sooner or later, you must also endure them.

Nitish Going Nowhere: Health Concerns Aside

Despite persistent whispers over frail health and an impending transition, Nitish Kumar is signaling one thing with unmistakable clarity: he is not exiting Bihar’s political stage anytime soon. His move to retain the Janata Dal (United) presidency, even as he prepares to shift to the Rajya Sabha, is less a retreat and more a recalibration. The message within the NDA ecosystem is clear—Nitish may step aside from the chief minister’s chair, but not from the levers of power. Party insiders concede that his role in choosing a successor will be decisive. The name of Samrat Chaudhary is doing the rounds, but the final word rests with Nitish. His repeated public endorsements of the deputy chief minister are being read as both grooming and gate keeping.

Equally telling is the calibrated emergence of Nishant Kumar. Once shielded from politics, the younger Kumar is now being positioned as a future stakeholder—an evolution that underscores Nitish’s intent to shape the post-him era without surrendering control.

For the BJP, this arrangement offers continuity without confrontation. For the JDU, it ensures that its social coalition—particularly the Luv-Kush axis—remains anchored to a familiar pivot. By shifting roles rather than relinquishing relevance, he is crafting a soft landing that keeps him firmly at the centre of Bihar’s power matrix. Watch out for the new Assembly Speaker too.  

A Shake-Up, Finally

The long-whispered churn in the BJP ecosystem is edging from speculation to schedule. By May, a calibrated shake-up across party, government and its wider power grid now looks imminent. The timing is hardly accidental. A short Parliament session — expected to clear the politically loaded women’s reservation and delimitation bills — will give the government both momentum and manoeuvring room. With the current West Asia turbulence likely to cool by then, the stage could be set for a reset in New Delhi.



Inside the party, the organisational reshuffle has been on hold ever since Nitin Nabin took charge. That pause now appears tactical. A round of musical chairs is in the works: some ministers may be redeployed to strengthen the party apparatus, while fresh faces could be drafted into the Union Council.



At the centre of it all is Narendra Modi, who is set to complete two years of his third term in May — a natural inflection point for course correction. A cabinet reshuffle is expected, with performance, caste calculus and electoral signaling all in play. The possible entry of Nitish Kumar into the Union Cabinet adds another layer of intrigue. If executed well, this won’t just be a reshuffle — it could be a strategic reboot ahead of the next political curve.












Wednesday, March 25, 2026

by Harish Gupta, National Editor, Lokmat Group

Fly on the Wall


The Elite Lose Sleep


Ever since Narendra Modi took office, India’s bureaucracy has been jolted out of its comfort zone. The Prime Minister’s relentless work ethic—often stretching close to 20 hours a day—has steadily reset expectations across ministries. While most departments felt the shift early, the traditionally insulated elite of the Indian Foreign Service (IFS) managed to glide through with limited disruption, barring brief pressure spells during episodes like “Operation Sindoor.”


That insulation is now gone. A complex global crisis—one India is not party to, yet cannot escape—has dragged the Ministry of External Affairs into an unforgiving, high-velocity environment. At the centre is the Prime Minister’s Office (PMO), operating in overdrive and demanding real-time responsiveness. For a service steeped in protocol and process, the change has been stark.


Take a recent instance: as tensions escalated overseas, the PMO sought an urgent conversation with a key global leader. What would earlier take hours—if not a full day—through diplomatic channels, was compressed into minutes. Senior IFS officials were on the phone past midnight, scrambling across time zones to secure the line. The old rhythm of calibrated diplomacy is giving way to a results-driven, time-bound approach. With conversations spanning time zones, officials are clocking 18–20 hour workdays, matching the tempo set at the top. A slight delay invited direct calls from the PMO, seeking explanations. This is the new normal.


This round-the-clock culture is unprecedented for the MEA. It marks a shift from ceremonial diplomacy to mission-mode execution, where delivery trumps decorum. For India’s blue-blood diplomatic corps, long accustomed to measured pace and hierarchy, the message is unmistakable: adapt or be left behind. The elite, it seems, are finally losing sleep.


Rahul’s Scripted Politics, Unscripted Damage



People often ask who writes Rahul Gandhi’s speeches. The stock answer: elite aides from Harvard and Oxford. But speechwriters are universal—from the Prime Minister downwards. The real question is judgment, not drafting. Rahul is widely seen as fearless, honest, and unbending before the government. Fair enough. But elections aren’t won on virtue alone. If they were, Communist parties—equally vocal and combative—would dominate everywhere. Winning demands political instinct and sustained grind, where Rahul still appears wanting.

His latest remark in Lucknow, at an event marking Kanshi Ram’s birth anniversary, underscores the problem. He said that if Jawaharlal Nehru hadn’t existed, Kanshi Ram would have become Chief Minister. The statement lands as both careless and condescending. Kanshi Ram didn’t need Congress patronage—he built his own movement and installed Mayawati as Uttar Pradesh CM multiple times through sheer political engineering. The remark also exposes a dated strategy: revive the Nehru-era Congress coalition of Dalits, Muslims, and Brahmins. That arithmetic no longer holds. In fact, it invites scrutiny—how many Dalit CMs did Congress actually produce?

The answer is uncomfortable. Despite governing widely, Congress elevated only a handful of Dalit chief ministers. The most recent was Charanjit Singh Channi in Punjab. Even the BJP has yet to appoint one. Nehru ruled for 17 years and produced just one Dalit CM. Against that record, invoking him to elevate Kanshi Ram rings hollow. For Rahul Gandhi, the takeaway is simple: less rhetoric, more rigour. Loose lines don’t just miss the mark—they damage credibility. Mallikarjun Kharge once thought of broaching the subject with Rahul Gandhi. But couldn't muster the courage, say sources.


From Parliament to ‘Tapori’: When Politics Goes Bambaiya


Indian politics briefly took a detour into Mumbai street slang after Kangana Ranaut decided to label Rahul Gandhi a “tapori”—a word more at home in Bollywood banter than parliamentary discourse. The remark raised eyebrows, not least because “tapori” doesn’t quite feature in standard political vocabulary. For the uninitiated, it loosely translates to a street-smart vagabond—part rogue, part charmer, and occasionally a cinematic hero. Think less policy paper, more Rangeela energy.


Predictably, the backlash was swift. The Congress ignored it. But Priyanka Chaturvedi stepped in with a pointed rebuttal, calling the comment “wrong” and gently reminding critics of Gandhi’s public positioning on women’s issues—while also noting the irony of targeting someone from a lineage known for its women leaders.


But the real curiosity is linguistic. “Tapori,” with its roots in Marathi street culture, once described flamboyant, mischievous young men loitering around Mumbai’s tapris. Over time, Bollywood polished the edges, turning the term into something almost aspirational—a badge of rebellious cool.

Which perhaps explains the confusion. Insult, caricature, or accidental compliment? In today’s politics, even street slang can briefly steal the national spotlight.


A Tale of Two Cases


The recent closure of the Sterling Biotech case involving the Sandesara brothers who fled the country in 2017 —Nitin and Chetan—has drawn attention to the fine balance between legal closure and public perception. The settlement, approved by the Supreme Court of India, allows for a payment of ₹5,100 crore as “full and final” resolution between the promoters, lending banks and investigative agencies. On paper, it brings closure. In practice, it raises questions. Sterling Biotech’s total dues were estimated at nearly ₹19,400 crore. Yet, roughly a quarter of that amount has been accepted to settle not just civil liabilities but also accompanying criminal proceedings. The allegations by agencies included complex financial irregularities and the use of 200 shell entities. The settlement, therefore, marks a legal endpoint, though not without discomfort within banking circles.


Contrast this with the case of Vijay Mallya. His liabilities, pegged at a little over ₹6,000 crore, stemmed largely from the collapse of his Kingfisher airline business rather than proven fraud at the time of default. Having left India in 2016, he was later declared a fugitive. Since then, recovery agencies claim to have realised over ₹14,000 crore through asset seizures—well above the principal. Yet, with interest accruals, his dues are still treated as unsettled, hovering near ₹20,000 crore.


Two cases, two outcomes—both legally sanctioned, yet starkly divergent. The contrast underlines the complexities of financial justice, where recovery, culpability and closure do not always align in ways that appear intuitive.




























Thursday, March 19, 2026

by Harish Gupta, National Editor, Lokmat Group


Fly on the wall

Reservation by Raffle? Parliament May Try Its Luck

Indian democracy has tried many innovations, but the latest idea doing the rounds in Delhi could easily pass for political satire: deciding women’s reserved seats in the Lok Sabha by lottery. Yes, a lottery. Not the kind that changes your life overnight, but one that could determine which parliamentary constituencies out of 543 will be reserved for women when the 33 per cent quota possibly kicks in 2029.

The discussion stems from a practical problem. The landmark Nari Shakti Vandan Act, passed with great fanfare in 2023, says the reservation will come into force only after the census and the delimitation of constituencies. The census process has finally been notified and, if schedules hold, the data may emerge by late 2027. Once the census numbers are out, a Delimitation Commission will have to redraw constituency boundaries which will take another two years if not more. The political dilemma is how to implement women’s reservation before the 2029 election without waiting for delimitation to finish.

Enter the lottery idea. If delimitation is delayed, one option being discussed is to temporarily delink the reservation from the boundary exercise and allocate the required constituencies through a draw of lots. The proposal is still in the realm of speculation. Opposition parties have already suggested separating reservation from the census–delimitation cycle. Meanwhile, signals of a “significant bill” have come from Kiren Rijiju, though details remain under wraps. If the idea gains traction, India’s electoral politics could soon face a curious spectacle—where the path to Parliament may depend not just on campaigning, alliances and strategy, but also on the luck of the draw.

Rarest of the Rare’: The Three-Minute Video Saga

The detention of climate activist Sonam Wangchuk under the National Security Act may well enter legal folklore as a “rarest of the rare” episode — not because the law was invoked, but because a three-minute video began to unravel the government’s case. The drama unfolded in the Supreme Court when the bench of Justices Aravind Kumar and P. B. Varale began probing the basis of Wangchuk’s detention. At the heart of the case was his speech delivered during protests in Leh.

But the court noticed something odd. The government’s translation of Wangchuk’s speech ran for nearly seven to eight minutes. The original video, however, lasted barely three minutes. The bench was quick to flag the mismatch. “How can a three-minute speech have a seven-minute translation?” the judges asked, making it clear that they wanted the actual transcript rather than the government’s interpretation.

The turning point came when the court said it would watch the video itself. The Centre was asked to submit the footage cited in the detention order on a pen drive so the judges could verify the speech first-hand. That single decision changed the complexion of the case. The government began seeking adjournments. At one stage, the hearing was deferred after the law officer informed the bench that Tushar Mehta was unwell and needed time to respond.

But before the judges could actually sit down to watch the video, the Centre quietly revoked the detention order. And that is what makes the episode “rarest of the rare”, legal luminaries say. A preventive-detention case that began collapsing the moment the court insisted on seeing the three-minute video behind the seven-minute translation.

Erasing Lutyens from Delhi!

The transformation of India’s power corridor may be heading for its boldest phase yet. After unveiling the new Parliament House and pushing ahead with a vast executive complex, the government is now looking at a sweeping redesign of the entire Central Vista and large parts of Lutyens’ Delhi.

At the heart of the plan is Prime Minister Narendra Modi’s ambition to modernize the core of the capital. The next target is to gradually move all departments into modern integrated multi-storied complexes that can accommodate thousands of officials under one roof and even VIP bungalows. The ripple effects could extend well beyond government offices. Several colonial-era bungalow clusters across Lutyens’ Delhi are now under scrutiny. Hundreds of Houses around the Race Course Road and area in Lutyens Delhi have reportedly received eviction notices as authorities explore building multi-storeyed accommodation for MPs and even ministers.

The redevelopment footprint could also cover institutions such as the Press Club of India, the Indian Women’s Press Corps, key institutions and the elite Delhi Gymkhana Club. If the plan unfolds fully, the quiet bungalow capital designed by Edwin Lutyens may slowly give way to a dense, modern government district. Supporters call it long-overdue modernization. Critics have a sharper phrase for it: the steady erasing of Lutyens from Delhi. His bust has already gone.

Who After Harivansh? Deputy Chairman Race Gets Tricky

With Harivansh Narayan Singh set to retire as Deputy Chairman of the Rajya Sabha, a question has surfaced in the corridors of power: who will occupy the chair next? At one stage, there was speculation that the BJP was keen on sending him back for a third term. But Nitish Kumar’s party chose otherwise, and the BJP did little to intervene — a political fate not very different from what earlier befell R. C. P. Singh, once a minister in the Modi government.

By convention, the post could again go to the JD(U), but the party’s options appear limited. Among its Rajya Sabha MPs, Ram Nath Thakur, son of socialist icon Karpoori Thakur, is already serving as a minister. The party’s working president Sanjay Jha is reportedly uninterested, while others are not seen as strong contenders. This leaves the NDA looking beyond JD(U). Could the post go to an ally such as Chandrababu Naidu’s Telugu Desam Party, or perhaps to representatives of Eknath Shinde’s Shiv Sena or Ajit Pawar’s Nationalist Congress Party faction?

Earlier, the government had even explored offering the position to neutral, issue-based supporters like the BJD. That option now appears politically unviable. For the NDA leadership, what should have been a routine parliamentary appointment has quietly turned into a delicate exercise in coalition management. The Lok Sabha is already without a Deputy Speaker. Will the Rajya Sabha witness the same in the days to come!